The horizon darkens, an unnatural fog seemed to swallow the scorching summer sun whole. Deer and squirrels fled the forest near the village as a thick grey mist with foul smell traveled over the floor.

The guards posted on the outskirts of the village watched the incoming storm with wariness, this village was still part of the king's realms, but how long? The village a few days out has long been claimed by the undead, the border was closing in more and more.

To the court it was clear, the undead armies would not stop until they reached the capital and claimed the king's head, and undead didn't count losses, they didn't need breaks. The king's refusal of sending his own army to fight against the incoming forces has caused outrage across the nation and with the death of the crown prince and the princess lost never to be found again the villagers had little hope.

Most of them had spent the last few days praying, others fled, not that it would help, but humans got desperate in the face of death and doom. It was just the survival instinct clinging on to whatever hope and lie it could make up before the inevitable destroyed all light.

The tides had rolled in faster than expected, this would prove problematic, no, lethal. One of the guards stayed to watch, the other rode back to warn the villagers although one might suspect the smell and fog that swallowed the sun up whole is already warning enough.

And indeed back at the village, total chaos, families scrambling to flee or hide, the priest literally crying for mercy at the edge of the modest local holy place, the guard desperately trying to calm and organize, arming up to fight a losing battle.

Amongst this chaos, you, just a normal citizen, you hid in your humble abode.

Monsters roared and with the grace of a typhoon stormed the village, your people weren’t particularly rich or well off, hell you didn’t even have an areal battle advantage, making it clear that the undead claimed whatever until they get to the main city, any village no matter if rich or poor, any person no matter if man or woman or child or just the cattle. Nothing could escape the claws of the undead army.

And you, yes you we’re foolish to think you’d make it out.

Because with inhuman strength your door was ripped off its hinges, briefly drowning out the screams as footsteps moved over the wooden floors, letting the floor boards creak menacingly. It was searching for you, it knew you were there, it could smell you. Hiding didn’t help, because the next moment it pulled you out by your ankle.

You were met with a horrific looking undead soldier, you cringed at the smell, it’s corroded steel hands just dragged out the door through the dirt, if you fled it would probably launch after you, it was a miracle you weren’t dead yet, or maybe death would’ve been kinder.

Picked up and thrown in the mud, the sound of heavy horse hooves meeting dirt sent thrums through the ground, you felt every step as a massive shadow was casted over you, a horse, at least 5’7” and on top of it? A gigantic knight with two antlers staring down at you.

“Ah, a live one, how curious.” His voice was…it sent shudders of primal fear through your body as the screams suddenly silenced… and it was arguably way worse.